


A Medicine to Cure Annoying Pests

by concavecrowns



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concavecrowns/pseuds/concavecrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Bunnymund are roommates. Naturally, they've had their arguments. Jack is hanging onto Bunny's last straw, and this fight may be their last. Afterall, you need to be a saint to live with Jack Frost and not want to pummel him every now and then. But will they still be friends? And if Jack runs, who will he turn to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Self-Prescribed, Doc

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to get some emotions out, so as Return of the King played on our TV, I sat and wrote this. Some of this is based on my life. I vented through Jack and caused him pain. I'm not even sorry. Hopefully I'm not creating suffering for some parallel world Jack, then I'd feel terrible. Considering his background so far is very vague, he would have nearly as many questions as our world's Jack.
> 
> I have part of the second chapter written already, but no promises how long I'll keep this running. I'm making this up as I go, sue me. /wink 
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway.

> _is there a medicine i can take to make me not annoying  
>  yeah its called poison  
>  oh_

“I’m sick of y’, Jack.”

Jack turned to his roommate, pulled out his ear buds, and slid down his blue hood. “...What? Sorry, I had my music in, did you just—”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Bunnymund exclaimed, his Australian accent more prominent in his anger. “All you have to do is clean, that’s all I ask, ‘n what do you do? You sit there ‘n do nothing! You’re selfish ‘n immature, ‘n I’m done with you, Jack.”

“What—wait, where did this come from? I do plenty around here, Bunny,” Jack said, frowning as he shifted on his chair. “I mean sure, it, it may take me a while, but that’s just because I don’t... _hop_ to attention the first hint, the moment work shows up. Boring, dull work,” he finished with a roll of his eyes.

“Ugh, you’re just so—Filthy bludger! I can’t stand you normally, I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I must have been straight out of my mind.”

Icy blue eyes darted away and thin shoulders shrugged anxiously. Jack had no answer for Bunnymund except for a funny one, and he didn’t much feel like joking right then. Presented with tight silence, Aster continued releasing his pent-up anger. Deep, green eyes flashed. 

“I clean the dishes, I do the laundry, I do bloody everything around here! Blimey, you don’t even have a job, Jack!”

“I had a job, and I was doing just fine! Wal-Mart’s a perfectly reputable place to work,” Jack said, standing and shaking his silver-white hair out of his eyes.

“You got fired, you boofhead.”

“Burger King then! You gotta admit, Kangaroo, I look good in a paper crown. Better than you in that ridiculous pink apron, that’s for sure,” he finished in a chuckle.

“A bakery is a ridgy-didge yakka—honest work! I’ve had a stable job for years, but you, you’re the fuck-wit who’s fired from every job you’ve had. Right?” Aster spit, a mean chuckle at the end.

“I get bored, I’m not like you! Doing the same thing, day after day, pack this, bag that, flip the burger just right, Jack, you’ll get it in a few years of being a hopeless dead-end teenager—that’s not for me! ...A free life, riding on the wind, fantastical stuff. Or it’s not worth it.”

Aster loomed over the younger boy and jabbed a long finger into his chest. He growled, “You need to grow up.”

Jack squared his shoulders and leaned up in challenge. The teen lowered his voice, heavily enunciating every word, “And you need a life.” 

“I already have one, mate. Last time I checked, your life wasn’t worth living. Or did you change your mind?” 

Frosted orbs glazed over like a thin sheet of ice melting, the water underneath overtaking it. Jack worked his jaw, clenched it, and swallowed. He would _not_ show the asshole how much that stung. After a quick, deep breath, he thought he could trust his voice. Jack leaned back slightly and spoke, his tone light, “Maybe I don’t want to grow up.”

“Fine. Good for you. But you need to live in the real world sometimes Frostbite, get some common sense ‘n learn the boundaries between fantasy ‘n reality. Fuckin’ time to grow up. I can’t wait to see how things go when you’re on your own,” Aster said, venom on his breath. His grass-green eyes burned deeper than any emerald in the hottest flame.

“I don’t need you,” Jack said angrily, gesturing sharply. “I don’t need anyone, I can take care of myself. So yeah, I’m gonna be fine, thanks. Because you care so much,” the teen said as he turned away, mumbling his last sentence.

“Oh, you don’t think I care? Alright fine, bloody crash-hot. Don’t mind that no one will ever take you seriously; you don’t look a day over seventeen! You’re nineteen, it’s ridiculous!”

Jack’s eyes lit up in amusement, a moonbeam shining across a pond’s surface. “That’s what you focus on? My incredible good looks? My, my Bunny, I never thought.”

“Not. In. The mood, Frosty.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna hit me? Because that gets us so far,” the teen started, ready for a fist fight.

“Not this time, Jack. I’m not yer old man. Yer a Clayton’s brother, a shitty cobber, and we’re through.”

“What does that even mean?” Jack asked, laughter in his confused voice. His smooth hands flew up in the air, frustration at its peak.

“It means you were my friend!”

Jack’s pale face twitched in horror. He said frantically, “Bunny—”

“For the last time, that’s not my name!”

“Bu—But Aster is such a stupid name... Bunny suits you much better. I mean, who ever heard of Bunnymund for a last name, it’s not even German,” Jack teased, smirking.

“Get out.”

The teen’s face fell, a ghosting frown masking his desperation. His lanky body swayed easily, a leg swinging in the air, before he leaned on the wall. The silver of his cargo pants scratched at the light green paint. His eyes distant, Jack challenged, “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll pretend you don’t exist,” Aster slowly chewed every word. His voice quickly became frustrated and high-pitched as he continued, “...I can’t live with you anymore.”

Blue eyes dulled before he said, “Fine. You’ll be rid of me. Happy you.” Jack spun on his barefoot heels and practically skated to the door. His gnarled walking stick hit the hardwood floor as he snatched it. 

Aster fell back on his heels, his long arms falling to his sides. He should have been happy that Jack was leaving, but nothing about the situation felt right. Frustrated, a rough palm raked over his face, his stubble scratching him. The man sighed and plodded across the plush carpet until he came upon the entryway. 

“Jack.”

The boy in question slung his blue converse over his shoulder, the laces tied together like a hobo’s nun chucks. Tossing a nonchalant glance over his shoulder, Jack offered a short, “What.”

“Where are you gonna stay?” Bunny inquired, his tone detached and unreadable.

Deciding it was a stupid question not worth eye contact, Jack balanced his cane, or his staff, as he liked to call it, in the crook of his arm. In all honesty, Jack didn’t have a plan. His back to one of the few people he thought he could always count on, always trust, even though he would never ask for help, Jack said, “Tooth’s place. Probably.”

“Shame, you’d make a good dero,” Aster said flatly.

Jack slowly spun on his feet, a brow raised. “A what.”

“Tramp. Homeless.”

“Gotcha. Sorry to disappoint you, Doc, but me and boxes don’t really mix,” Jack said, his usual playful swing to his tone gone. He grabbed the cold knob of the door— “I’ve been looking after myself for years, going back... It’ll be easy,” —and stepped out.

The robin’s egg blue door clicked shut. Aster’s broad shoulders sank, and he groaned. He was going to regret that later.

But in that moment, for a while, he would have some peace and quiet. Finally. 

_You know what I think? I think we just dodged a bullet._

He’d feel like getting shot again later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Australian colloquialisms ahoy! I had a bit too much fun with those, I think. Internet is my friend. Here's a list--
> 
> Bludger - a lazy person  
> Boofhead - idiot  
> Ridgy-didge - honest  
> Yakka - work  
> Fuck-wit - a very very big idiot  
> Crash-hot - wonderful  
> Bloody - very (rather than just in place of 'fucking' in British)  
> Clayton's - fake  
> Cobber - friend  
> Dero - tramp, homeless person, from 'derelict'
> 
> I suck at Bunny's slang. I just hope I get better. If you're Aussie--well, lend a girl a hand?


	2. Poison for a Troubled Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bunnymund are roommates. Naturally, they've had their arguments. Jack is hanging onto Bunny's last straw, and this fight may be their last. Afterall, you need to be a saint to live with Jack Frost and not want to pummel him every now and then. But will they still be friends? And if Jack runs, who will he turn to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I-- The first few hours after I put up the first chapter, and-- 29 hits? You guys are crazy! Alright, I was gonna hold off on this for a couple days, but... Here you go! 
> 
> This chapter has a point, I swear. You'll get some answers to Jack... Hopefully it's as fluffy as I was going for. And slightly angsty? Anyway, enjoy! Don't be scared to critique me, I could use it.
> 
> I listened to a whole playlist writing this, but I think [One Day](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Tyee5d87c8) and then [Kiss From A Rose](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ateQQc-AgEM) really add atmosphere.

“Jack? Jack, what’s wrong? You look like someone walked all over your snow angels...” Toothiana fretted over the Jack on her doorstep.

The tired teen huffed a short laugh. “Maybe they might’ve...if it wasn’t spring. Try daisies. Those are nice and innocent, right?”

A dubious, dainty eyebrow rose, and Toothiana sighed. “You’re joking when you should be confronting your problems again, aren’t you. Alright, come in.”

A small smirk pulled at Jack’s chapped lips as he slipped through the open door. “Oh Tooth, you know me so well.”

“I sure hope so, with how often we see you over here.” Toothiana rested a hand on her hip. Jack spotted the mischievous glint in her bright, ever-changing eyes too late. She sang, “Girls, it’s Jack Frost!”

“Ohh no, Tooth, wait—” Jack pleaded frantically, backing away from the older woman.

“Jack?!” little girl’s voices chorused from upstairs.

“Jack is here?!” one cried.

Little feet stampeded down the steps until four little bodies collided with Jack’s slim legs. He stumbled and windmilled his arms to stay upright. Eight tiny hands that were pulling on Jack’s hoodie kept him standing, and he laughed. His easy, floating chuckles flew through the dyed hair of the kids before they caught the giggles, too. After a breath, large hands lay on as many heads as Jack had palms for—so, two.

“Hey there, you little monsters. Miss me?” Jack asked, grinning.

“Of course!”

“We’ve been so bo-o-o-o-red, cooped up here!”

“There’s been, I dunno, like four dance recitals since we saw you!”

Jack’s shoulders shook with hearty chuckles. The fourth girl tugged at the boy’s knee-length, brown cargo pants, her chin turned skyward. She quietly asked, “Jack, why are your shoes on your shoulder?”

A hand carded through perfectly messy, white locks. “Uhh... What, these? They’re for ah, in case I have to go running. Looks like I just might need them afterall, by the way you girls are hugging me. I’ll have to run for my life!”

The first three kids gasped, their mouths small O’s of awe. The youngest girl, or Baby Tooth, as their family called her, frowned. Baby Tooth squinted up at Jack with an interrogator’s glare—that is to say, one of those cute faces children make when they’re trying to focus. Baby Tooth blew her short lime and jade hair out of her brown eyes.

“You’re a liar, Jack-a-Jack,” Baby Tooth huffed.

Jack blew out his cheeks in a show of disbelief. “Wh, a, a liar? That’s a strong accusation, Baby Tooth. Can you hold it up in a court of—SURPRISE!” he exclaimed as he lifted the four year old high into the air.

Baby Tooth squealed in delight. The other girls, Honeysuckle, Formosa, and Coral Nymph, all pouted. Formosa shook her pink-and-yellow head as she said, “Hey, that’s no fair. Me next!”

As the other girls lifted their arms, Jack put Baby Tooth down gently and laughed. Scanning the entryway, he asked, “Hey, where’s Poppy?”

Toothiana smiled sadly. “She hasn’t been feeling well.” Zipping closer, the brightly colored woman leaned in to conspiratorially whisper, “I think she’s missed you most of all, Jack.”

The teen turned and sent an exasperated look in Toothiana’s direction, a small smile gracing his lips. He lowly chirped, “Now that’s just not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and getting kicked out, Jack Frost, you know that.”

Jack winced. “Will you stop calling me that in front of the girls, you’re giving them ideas. Today they’re spinning daisy chains, tomorrow they’ll be running across the ice barefoot.”

“But you always give us ideas, Jack!” Coral chirped.

“Yeah, good ideas and lots of awesome games. But you should always bundle up, no matter what I do, kiddo,” Jack said, laughing, before he ruffled the top of Coral’s bright pink and white head. As Coral giggled and swatted at his hand, Jack turned to Tooth. “Can I see her?”

“Of course, Jack. And stay as long as you need. I’m sure Bunny could use the break. And, uh, you of course.”

“Ah, yeah sure. Cool,” the teen said as he waved off Toothiana’s verbal stumble. The girls whined as he skipped up the creaking stairs.

The centuries-old flight of stairs gave way to a long, angular hallway, open as a balcony, which in turn held five doorways. One such door, Jack knew, led to Toothiana’s room, or the master bedroom. That oak door was the first on his left. Walking around the stairs and along the railing, the guest bedroom stood in the corner of the loop, behind the master bedroom. To Jack’s right sat first the play room, then the children’s bathroom. The kids shared one large room, which was around the bend and directly in front of Jack.

A fist rose, poised to rap on the closed door. Bouncing his clenched hand in the air, Jack balanced on the balls of one foot and put it off. He bowed his chin and brought his fist down to knock on his head. _God, I really hope this kid doesn’t hate me. Bunny I can take. But Poppy? Any of these girls? I’d rather be dead_ , Jack thought to himself, breathily chuckling at his bad joke. 

Distracting himself, Jack’s eyes wandered the second floor. If anyone were to peer over the rails along the hallway, they could look down to see the first floor. It was an odd design, as if it were crafted by the birds themselves. The house was perfect for Toothiana and her feather-smart daughters. Most of them were adopted, but the crafty woman danced around the question, refusing to divulge to the girls who were related and who weren’t. Jack didn’t agree; he knew what it was like to have questions and only get silence in answer. Toothiana was their mother, though, so he didn’t comment.

That brought him back to the girls, or rather, the girl behind that door. Groaning, Jack knocked once, twice. No answer. The late teen knocked a rhythm on the wood and croaked, “Poppy?”

After several moments, a small voice squeaked, “Here.”

“Can I ah, come in?”

“...Yeah.”

The door slowly swung open, and Jack sauntered over the threshold. Five beds peppered the spacious room. Some had princess canopies, pink and blue and white, while others were buried in stuffed animals. One bed, however, had none of those things. It sat in the corner furthest from the door with only a heavy, white duvet with blue embroidery; a fluffy pillow; and a snowman doll. Jack smiled. Sitting cross-legged on the duvet was a thin five-year-old girl, dressed up in frilly, yet baggy girl’s clothes. She was lankier than Jack was at her age.

Jack approached the bed, taking his time. “Hey there, kiddo. I hear you’re not doing so well. What gives? You got a better immune system than I do.”

Poppy fingered loose threads on her sheets, her eyes downcast. Quietly, she said, “I’m not sick.”

“Then, what’s wrong?” Jack softly asked, the edge of the bed dipping ever-so-slightly to his weight.

Poppy sighed, drawing out her response, “I’m angry.”

“Oh yeah? I get angry too. Not like this, though, you’re better at dealing with it than me,” Jack said conversationally. When Poppy only shook her head, he continued, “Why are you angry?”

“Christopher is a jerk.”

Jack winced sympathetically. “Dads can be tough.”

“He isn’t my dad!” she yelled as her head snapped up.

“Alright, alright,” Jack raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Sorry. I don’t know him very well. What’s he like?”

“He’s mean and a jerk and I hate him,” Poppy sulked.

Jack pulled his legs onto the bed, getting comfortable in a pseudo-Indian style position. Leaning forward, he said in sotto, “Let me tell you something. I know a thing or two about mean guys who think they’re your dad.”

Dewey, brown eyes stared up through long bangs. “Really?”

“Yep. My dad was a complete jerk. He was always yelling, and...and sometimes I got hurt. My feelings or—whatever. But you know what?” Jack paused, his voice soft and open.

“What...?” Poppy asked suspiciously, sensing a moral.

“My mom was awesome. She was the best mom ever, almost as great as Tooth is to you and Formosa and Coral, Honey, and Baby Tooth. Okay no, honestly? I’ll fight you on whose mom is the best.”

Poppy giggled and quickly rubbed at her unshed tears, thinking she was being sly. Jack smiled fondly and continued, “But you know what? I don’t know what Christopher is like. Maybe he’s actually a swell dude, and... Maybe he’s trying. Sometimes people have trouble showing how they feel, you know?”

The girl sniffed. “No. I don’t think so. He’s mean. And he’ll always be mean.”

Jack leaned down further until his chest was almost pressed against the plush duvet. Glinting, blue eyes looked up at Poppy through winter’s own bangs. A brow raised, a smile struggling to break free cracked at his face as he asked, “But...?”

“But... I’ll ask. I guess,” Poppy pouted.

Jack chuckled and tousled the girl’s hair. “There’s a girl. You’re already infinitely more mature than I am,” he half-joked. 

The kid’s hands straightened the strands, her hair the lightest salmon pink and the offest off-white that ever existed. The girl’s shoulder-length strands came together like a beautiful spring skirt in the nippiest winter, and Jack loved it. All the girls had chosen their own colors for their hair, and Poppy’s was his favorite. Her hair was always feather-light and soft as fresh powder.

Powder. A lot of Jack’s memories had to do with snow. Not all of them were nice ones, either...

“Jack?”

“Huh?” the teen blinked down at Poppy, shaken out of his thoughts.

“I’m hungry.”

A surprised laugh escaped from Jack’s lips before he said, “Alright, kiddo, I bet you twenty candy canes that Tooth is cooking up something delicious.”

Excitement lit up Poppy’s wet face. She scrambled off the twin bed and dashed out the door. Chuckling to himself, Jack followed, practically gliding down the hallway. 

“If everything was as easy as it is talking with kids, my life would be a _lot_ easier,” Jack muttered to himself. “Hell, I might rule the world, even.” He slid down the stairway’s handrail and leapt over the banister, laughing.

“Jack! If that was you sliding down the stairs again, on my newly polished rails no less, I swear...!” a soprano’s sweet voice threatened.

Giggling easily, the culprit swagged into the kitchen. Smirking, he joked, “You’ll never be able to prove it.”

“I didn’t want to do this, but... I’ll have to put wanted posters up after all...” the bottle-rainbow headed woman teased.

“Dead or alive, you’ll never have me!”

“Jack attack!” the girls squealed, the teen’s only warning before he was tackled by five little girls. 

“Aaah no, I’m dying, I’m dying!” Jack fell to the tile in slow motion, twitching and groaning, the works. “The sheriffs got me! Cruel, cruel world! I can’t take your...strength!”

“Ja-a-a-a-ck, don’t even kid, I’m like, two pounds,” Honey said.

“No way, I coulda sworn you were two hundred, you’re crushing me!” the white-haired boy said, his words rushing out in one breath.

Jack’s laughter was drowned out by five girls out for vengeance pulling at his face and squishing his button nose. Little hands shoved at his head. Coral nearly crawled up his blue hoodie in the tussle, which earned a squeak out of the teen as he pulled her out.

Toothiana could only laugh helplessly as she prepared dinner. Being a wise, young lady, she expected Bunnymund would drop by to mend things before too long. If he wasn’t... A glint of something dangerous, though not sinister, danced in her hazel orbs. The dainty, curvaceous woman was not a lady to be crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the last chapter's notes were here... hopefully this'll rectify it!
> 
> I'm thinking North will come in next... Everyone will be in here, eventually. Probably.


End file.
